FAKE Family
by ThatOneTiredWriter
Summary: After another drunken night of sadness, the personification of England has blinded himself from reality with a spell. Due to the unfortunate circumstances of being forced to go along with it until the spell breaks, France, Canada, and America have to pretend to be apart of England's family again. Can they survive, or will they break before the spell does?
1. The beginning

Welcome to the first chapter of F.A.K.E. Family! [Get it? ;)] I hope you enjoy, and apologies for any typos/ things that don't make sense! Now let's begin!

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To say that Alfred was tired would be an understatement. The night before was a marathon of Love Island and binge eating, which had hit him like a freight train when his alarm went off at four a.m. Yes, he was running off two hours of sleep, but a hero's duty requires perseverance. And if there was one thing Alfred knew, it was that he had enough perseverance to stage a revolution so making it through one meeting was far from impossible, right?

Wrong. As soon as he hopped out of his uber to attend the meeting, he fully realized what he was going to have to go through. _Uuuuugggghhhhhhh_. He felt more like a tired seven year old, then a sleep deprived nation. After basically dragging himself all the way to the conference room, he paused at the entrance digging into his pocket to pull out a few advils. He quickly dry-swallowed the painkillers, forced on a happy face and entered.

"The hero is here!" He proclaimed before heading towards his usual seat beside an unusually confused looking England.

""The 'hero' is late." Germany stated, already too tired of the American's antics. This was- unlike Iggy's face- was normal.

As the meeting droned on, Alfred's disinterest increased. He pulled out his notes and sketched, drawing everything from stickmen to little chibis. He saw England glancing at him every so often, but chose to ignore it. He didn't know what was wrong with the Brit, but he was too tired to ask. The personification became so focused on his next masterpiece, that he didn't hear Germany calling on him.

After multiple tries to get the blondes attention, the German yelled,"America! It's time for you to give your speech!"

Big oof. _Shit_. He thought, realizing that everyone was looking at him.

The personification rose, and headed to the podium to give his speech that he had typed it a week in advance. But before being able to begin his originally intended speech about the effects of global warming, he chickened out. The blonde began racking his brain and stuffed the speech back into his pocket.

"So, basically, a few days ago I was watching netflix and saw a super depressing documentary about world hunger, " he paused but not for long. He didn't want it to seem like he was making this up on the spot.

"So, then I thought, 'Hey! What if we just placed a Mickey D's in every country that faced world hunger? Then we wouldn't have to deal with it anymore, y'know?" Alfred felt terrible, but he knew he had to push through. Standing and looking out at his audience, he felt like vomiting. He forced some more pep into his voice and continued.

Once he was done, he ended with a simple, "Okay, well I'm guessing there's no questions, so thanks, and bye!" and hopped down from the podium, making a bee-line to his seat. Once reaching it, he finally relaxed. He waited boredly as the meeting continued as usual. No one was surprised by his ridiculous speech. While swivelling in his meeting chair, he felt someone grab his shoulder, making himself stop the motion. He turned to find the hand attached to a pissed looking brit.

"America, behave yourself." He hissed, appearing to be appalled by Alfred's behavior.

Alfred gave a short pfft in response before continuing his movements. This seemed to add to brit's ire. He grabbed onto the chair's armrest, halting Alfred's movement once again. They locked eyes, emerald ones staring down blue with a disapproving stare.

"_United States_," He warned. Usually calling America "United States" was enough to make Alfred cower. _Psssh_, like Alfred cared. He pushed the bushy-browed man's arms off the chair, and began spinning in it. This time when England grabbed the chair he gripped it hard.

"Alfred Faer Kirkland-Bonnefoy, you behave this instant!" He whisper shouted at the boy in front of him. "Kirkland-Bonnefoy"?! Ummmm, it's _Jones- _has been since the revolution_-_ and where did old his man get off calling him his human name!? Alfred's anger interrupted his stupor.

"And what are you gonna do if I don't?" He replied with just as much ferocity. Anger clouded the older man's face as two bushy brows furrowed. He opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted by the announcement of the meeting being adjourned.

Alfred hopped out of his seat, ready to get the _frick _out of there. Before he could leave, he felt a firm hand grabbed his shoulder, causing him an abrupt stop. Why was the brit so handsy today?

He turned around, already tired of the lecture he _knew _was soon to begin. He turned around, and saw England taking in a deep breathe. Yup. His assumption was correct.

"Alfred-"

"Yes, _Arthur_?" He cut the older man off. _See, _he thought to himself_, he could use first names too!_

England looked as though he was about to burst a blood vessel. He face became red and blotchy with anger.

"_Excuse me?_ Alfred please explain this odd behavior immediately. Goodness, I raised you better than for you to act in such a way! "Arthur told him, once again acting confused.

"Acting different? I've acted this way since I began to raise _myself _after the revolution!" God, was the old man smoking something?

"Raise yourself?" He scoffed, and raised a heavy eyebrow,"Boy, I would hardly call what you did after the revolution as 'raising yourself.'"

"The hell are you talking about, old man? What are you on? After I left you during the revolution-" England opened his mouth to speak again, but was quickly interrupted by the entrance of France and Canada into the conference room.

England's shoulders appeared to sag in relief at the appearance of France. _The hell?_

"Francis, please explain to your son how his behavior during the meeting was completely inappropriate, and that we raised him better than that." Everyone in the room balked at the saying of the name "Francis."

Not "frog", or "cheese-eating-surrender-monkey", or even y'know simply "France." No, not even any of his specially reserved expletives for the frech man. Instead he said... "_Francis._"

"Damnation, can someone bloody explain to me why the hell my children and husband are looking at me as though I've grown another head?" The brit yelled, face red from his rage.

Not the only person in the room to become overcome with emotion, Alfred fainted from shock.

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Hey, guys! Thank you for reading till the end, and I hope you will leave a review! I hope to see you in the next chap, and thanks again! :)


	2. Chapter 1

Hello, my dudes! Sorry you had to wait so long for another chapter but I'm just lazy like that... Anyway, thank you to you guys for the reviews and shout out to Determined Dancer for reminding me to write. And thank you all sm for your kind reviews :') I would mention you all by name but I feel as if this author's note is already to long...

Let's begin! 3

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Not the only person in the room to be overcome with emotion, Alfred fainted from shock.

Arthur, being the closest to the now-falling boy, was the first to take action by grabbing the boy by his shoulders in an attempt to keep him from falling. Grappling to keep the heavier blonde up, the ex-empire yelled at the other two occupants of the room.

"What are you standing there for? Bloody do something!"

That caught both Francis and Matthieu's attention, as both blondes hurried to get closer to assist Arthur. Once the lowered Alfred to the floor, Arthur began checking the boy over for any injuries, then began loosening Alfred's tie, collar, and belt. After doing so Arthur quickly put his hands beneath Alfred's legs and lifted them above heart level.

Once Alfred's blood began circulating, he slowly came back to consciousness. Realizing someone was touching him, totally non-consensually btw, he quickly opened his eyes to search for the perpetrator only to find his fath- England, France, and Canada.

"Uuuh, whatcha' doing dudes?" His confusion leaking into his tone. He saw Matthieu opened his mouth to speak but his line of sight was interrupted by an especially bushy pair of brows with a pair of emerald green eyes below them.

"Poppet, are you having problems with your health?"

"Poppet?" England hadn't called him "poppet" since he was a kid...or when Alfred got very injured during the wars.

"N-no. I'm perfectly healthy," Alfred realized he was still being held, "and fully capable so you can let go now, dude."

England frowned at the informal-addressal but complied none-the-less. Alfred began to rise and was quickly assisted by Matthieu and France, who were both being given directions by England.

"Now, stand him up gently no-No, no! Slow down lest' we want him to faint again! I said gently, Frog!"

Alfred began to speak once he was almost standing at his full height, "I'm perfectly fine, and I can walk by myse-"before being hit by a spell of dizziness. Taking that as a que, Matthieu hitched Alfred's arm above his shoulder and used one arm to hold his waist.

"D-dudes, I'm okay. I just need to walk it off." Alfred was met by every pair of eyes in the room giving him a disbelieving look.

"Well, it seems besides fainting spells, you're also suffering delusions if you ever thought I was going to believe that." England huffed while Matthieu nodded, and France scoffed.

.

As much as Alfred wanted to dispute that claim, his chance was quickly taken away by France.

"That is hilarious coming from you," the oldest-blonde stated.

England raised a heavy brow, "And why would that be?"

"Because you seem to be suffering from delusions yourself," France replied, grinning.

England looked especially vexed by that, "Oh? And could you please explain to me what these so-called "delusions" are?"

The french-man looked as if he was barely able to hold in his laughter. "Rosbif, you seem to think that we're married. And while a cannot lie that I blame you for that fantasy, or am not flattered by it, you seem to not know it is just that. A fantasy." He said, smugly looking at the brit.

England appeared puzzled by that before wincing. His pain started quickly escalating from confusion to discomfort to a throbbing and painful headache.

The residents of the room stared in bewilderment as the man clutched at his temple, and muttered to himself about it not making sense.

Not knowing what to do but seeing that Arthur was in a state of distress, Matthieu decided to take matters into his own hands and call the person who could handle England at his craziest. Matthieu decided to call Scotland.

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Thank you for reading and hopefully reviewing because I love all of them! Can't wait to see you in the next chapter! (Which you don't have to wait for because I did a double update!) :P


	3. Chapter 2

Double update? Double update! Hopefully I can write the next chapter soon since it should be smooth sailing now that we have the set-up! :D

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Not knowing what to do but seeing that Arthur was in a state of distress, Matthieu decided to take matters into his own hands and call the person who could handle England at his craziest. Matthieu decided to call Scotland.

As Matthieu dialed England's brother-who was his ex-colonizer's emergency contact-, he had to question if this was possibly the best option. Before he could answer that question, the aforementioned answered the call.

"Ello'?" The scottish man answered, the tone in his voice suggesting he was preoccupied.

"Y-yes, hello. This is Canada-"

"Oi, laddie! Now what's yeh' reason for a call?"

"'Well, you see...England is acting...different."

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Matthieu received the answer of, "Different how?"

Matthieu took a breath before continuing, "England seems to be in a very confused state a-and-" He spared a glance at his parental-figure, "in pain as well."

"Could ye' put him on the phone?" Matthieu nodded before passing Alfred off to eager Francis. Once he made sure Alfred was fully stabilized, the canadian continued approaching a still grimacing Arthur. He grabbed the older man's shoulder, and held out the phone to him.

"For you," Matthieu said. Arthur took the phone from Matthieu and pressed it to his ear, the noise no-doubt not helping the headache.

"Okay, Arthur, what'd you get yourself into this time? Hangover? Depression? Spell?"

"Wot?" Was Arthur's astute answer.

Scotland breathed a deep sigh, "Did you get drunk last night? Or are you having another episode?"

"Episode? Wot do you mean by episode? And yes I had few things to drink last night, but not too many seeing as I had a had a meeting in the morning."

"Mmhmm, and did you possibly do any spell casting last night?"

"None that I can think of. An' what's with all this questioning? If you can't tell, I'm quite preoccupied."

"Kay', Arthur, the lad spoke of you being confused, so what's tha' about?"

"Well, Alistiar, you know there could have been some spellcasting last night of the amnesia variety because my family doesn't seem to remember that we are such?"

Scotland leaned in on the other side of the phone, "An' what do you mean by forgetting you're family?"

"Well, Francis seems to have forgotten our marriage, and the boys seem to have forgotten that I'm their father. And they seem to think I'm delusional one," Arthur let out an airy laugh at that, glad to share his disbelief with someone else.

Scotland pulled out his tarot cards and runes to consult them on Arthur's condition. After Scotland received his answers he quickly picked up the phone he had set down, and asked for it to be handed to Matthieu.

"Hello," Matthieu said into the phone.

"Ello' again, laddie, y' listening good?" Alistair needed to make sure Matthieu got the information that soon going to be relayed to him.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, mah runes are telling me that Arthur casted a fantasy spell on himself which basically means he believes he lived a different life than the one he does. Does the idgit' act weird when presented with facts that contradict this make-belief world?"

"Yes, he...he is pained, I think? He definitely hurts from it?"

"Mhhhmm, just what I thought. That fecking' idgit casted a Perspective-Spell. Sometimes, when casters become depressed their magic senses it and decides to create a world with everything you ever wanted. It basically takes the best possible outcomes from troubles in your life and builds a happy world off that. When anyone disputes the fact that the world is fake, the spell takes that as a threat and distracts the caster by causing pain."

"So, how do we fix it? What can we do to help him?"

"Well for fixing it there's only one known cure which is convincing the spell it doesn't have to exist by proving that his real life can be just as good as the fake one. So I'll be doing some research for that, but the way to help him the most…"

Scotland paused in thought, "Well...To cause him the least distress...You're just gonna have to pretend that his fantasy is true."

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Thank you guys for reading! And once again I love and read all of the reviews! 3


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